


Challenge

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-15
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-05-06 21:16:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5431046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oikawa has lived with King Ushijima quite happily, but that happiness is only a shadow of what he could have. It takes a war for him figure that out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what I'm doing. A lot of people map out stuff before they write, but I haphazardly type whatever comes in my head, so here's my first multi chapter fic. I would like to note ages. The third years are 22-23, second years 21-22, and first years 20-21. The plot right now is only half formed, but it will feature IwaxOikawa primarily once it gets started. If you see any issues or have any questions, leave a comment or message me so I can fix whatever or clear anything up. Or maybe just comment if you like it! I'm looking forward to writing this.

Oikawa huffed as he walked down the long hallway. He usually slowed down to admire the care and craftsmanship that must have gone into the building -- especially the ceiling, but he was otherwise occupied.

How dare he? How dare he act like he had any right to butt into Oikawa's affairs? The knight had absolutely no reason to stick his nose in Oikawa and Ushijima's conversation, but had that stopped him? No.

It wasn't even a particularly unreasonable request. With company from Karasuno castle, he had expected to be on display more than usual. Men loved dancing, and there were certainly enough men around, he thought, sniffing derisively.

Oh, but he had felt it was necessary to defend Oikawa's honor, of all things, like he was some pure flower. The place was already a mess with King Daichi and his soldiers, especially with the rain. The weather had kept up beautifully for weeks before their arrival, but the moment they were spotted from the walls, it was like the sky was trying to wash them away.

It wasn't long after that before another had crossed the fields before Shiratorizawa castle. He was a sturdy man, but obviously not very smart. He had no horse and was half dead from dehydration and fatigue. Probably about to drop from his humorously large two handed sword, but it was also partly due to his own lack of foresight.

Ushijima had allowed him in, and he had made friends easily enough. The little spunky orange one guffawed and nearly keeled over at the sight of his armor and weapons. Oikawa wasn't particularly impressed. He was a skilled fighter, as well, and he saw no merit in such an unwieldy hunk of metal or such thick armor. That being said, if he was slow -- which he most likely was swinging something that large -- the leather and iron was a good idea.

Oikawa paused as he reached his room, exhaling slowly to release the tension in his shoulders. He had been on his feet for hours. The day had started early. Ushijima enjoyed showing him off. He had greeted King Daichi's men once they had bathed, accompanying the entire party to the dining hall for an early lunch.

He had taken his breakfast early knowing they would arrive and also knowing he would have to perform. The music was always easy to move to, and his clothes were comfortable. He had no trouble winding his hips, eyes closed, moving without really thinking after so many years of public shows.

He didn't have to look to feel the eyes on his body. These men were starved for company, and Ushijima was starved for him, though it had been easy enough to escape unwanted advances when he wandered off, promising a better dance later during dinner. Ushijima's eyes burned into his back as he waltzed out.

But then that man came. Iwaizumi Haijime. A warrior from the area Oikawa had been raised. It was much more arid there, and it was easy to see the difference in them. Oikawa was graced with a fairly easy life. He had only to entertain from time to time. Iwaizumi, though, he was browned from the sun, a light dusting of freckles along his nose.

_Probably along his shoulders, too._

Damn, he needed to get laid if he was thinking about some twit from Seijou.

Ushijima had asked him to stay once the music had stopped despite the fact that Oikawa had requested he take his dinner privately. It was to his supreme pleasure that he could request anything and everything from the stern king. He had Ushiwaka wrapped around his little finger. But that- that idiot. He interjected when Ushijima pressed.

Ushijima was many things -- proud, blunt, vain in his own way, stoic -- honestly, the list could go on, but of all the things he was, he was definitely respectful.

Oikawa allowed himself to smile at the soft 'tap' of his beaded slippers on the wooden floor of his room before carefully sitting on the edge of the bed. The smell of hot food was almost overwhelming, but he was still too angry, too wound up. He kept replaying the event in his head, memorizing it. He closed his eyes, hands tented, thumbs pressed against his forehead, and took another deep breath.

Ushijima had never forced himself on Oikawa. He had made his affection known more than once. There were so many nights where they had found themselves standing by Oikawa's door, shifting the weight from foot to foot they'd been standing there so long. There was always a slight pause, just the smallest moment before Ushijima asked. It was the same question every time: "Would you like company tonight?"

In the beginning, he liked to make it seem like he was concerned for Oikawa's well being. "I could keep you warm," or, "I believe there will be a storm tonight."

Oikawa laughed to himself, falling back on the bed, arms pressed against his eyes. He had a headache.

He'd never taken Ushijima up on his request. Sure, he was attractive. He was well muscled and well bred, and sometimes there was a challenge in his eyes when he looked at Oikawa that he swore made his stomach do somersaults before he caught fire. There were plenty of times where they had stayed up drinking. Fine spirits or spicy, dark wines that made his eyelids droop and Ushijima's lips hard to look away from.

Those nights didn't happen much anymore. They shared a strange relationship. Oikawa felt affection for him, and he felt certain there had to be something there, especially when he caught the quiet man studying him, eyes soft and full of things that didn't quite sit well with Oikawa. Oh, the promises those eyes held. He knew all he had to do was show one ounce of love, to just mention his interest, and he would be... What would he be? He was already protected. Already fed and housed.

Ah. _Special_.

He would be special. He would be the only one Ushijima looked at like that, and while he already was, it would be different. It wouldn't be the stolen glances or the few kisses they'd shared. It would be long nights without beginnings or ends, cold mornings made warm with scarred, calloused skin, soft tongue kisses along his neck.

And oh, how he ached to have those things, but not from him, and Ushijima knew that -- sensed it. He had never really pushed, never pressed Oikawa, which is why that idiot's little outburst had hurt.

Little Iwa had insisted that Oikawa be left alone, fingers reaching to his leather glove tucked right under his little leather belt, fully intending to challenge Ushijima. Some halfwit knight who six hours ago had been on the verge of collapsing with no food, no horse, no water, half worn shoes, and an almost dangerously infected wound had dared to challenge King Ushijima. What kind of fool- ?

It didn't help that when Ushijima had backed off, eyes widened just the barest amount before edging into a glare, Iwaizumi had looked triumphantly towards Oikawa, like he had done him some great favor.

Disrespect. That's what that was. He had made sure to give his most venomous glare before making his way to Ushijima, hips swaying, fully aware of the eyes locked on the firelight glinting off the sheen of sweat on the exposed skin of his lower back. Oikawa made sure to look _Grand Champion Iwaizumi_ in the eyes as he kissed Ushijima. His half-whispered invitation for Ushijima to join him in his chambers later was loud enough for everyone to hear.

And now here he was, hungry and tired and angry and... He hated to admit it, turned on. He found that stupid man attractive, and deep down, he liked the thought of people competing over him. But the feeling he had when he looked at Iwaizumi was different from Ushijima. It wasn't easy or familiar. It was hot and it made his cheeks and the back of his neck burn. It made him want to fuck him on the table in front of everyone, but he had standards.

He also had a king.

Oikawa knew dinner would be over soon, and the growling in his stomach wouldn't do. He stretched before hauling himself out of bed. The food looked good, as usual. He was spoiled, he thought affectionately. Ushijima took good care of him.

He sat and ate slowly, taking careful sips of both wine and water. He had invited his king to his chambers. Looking back on it, that was a petty, bold act intended to hurt the young crusader. He knew better than to involve Ushijima in his revenge, but the damage was done.

Oikawa bit into a particularly delicious soft cheese, eyes rolling back as he moaned. Damn, the food was so good.

Catching himself, he felt the heat creep up chest to his face. Soon... Soon it would be Ushijima making him moan like that.

He pushed the thought from his mind, feeling strangely nervous and excited. The thrill of the power imbalance was sincerely getting him hard. He made no move to hide his growing erection, but he certainly tried not to focus on it. He would have plenty of time for that later. He instead mused over how desperate he must be to get so hot and bothered over old milk, for once not trying to keep track of the hour.

The sky was lovely, and he watched, full and warm and sleepy as the last eagle swooped by. He had left his window open, and the chill of the night was setting in, though it was a welcome contrast to the all encompassing heat that seemed to have taken him over. His heart was beating quickly, no matter how much he tried to rationalize the situation. He'd had sex before, this was no different. At least, it shouldn't be, but it felt like it was. He had thought about it for so long that he was almost worried.

What if Ushijima wasn't as good as he had imagined? What if _he_ wasn't as good as he liked to think? No, he was good, but would he be good enough for Ushijima? A king, especially one so powerful and well known, probably had his pick. Who knows what kind of beautiful men or women he had sated himself with.

A pang of jealousy shot through Oikawa. A completely unwarranted, irrational, painful pang of jealousy. What if he wasn't the only one Ushijima courted? What if all the nights he wasn't waiting by Oikawa's door, he was wooing some other dancer?

He pouted, working himself up, arms crossed, nose scrunched, cursing Ushijima for acts he wasn't even sure he had committed when he heard the knock.


	2. The Long Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iwaizumi finds his place in Ushijima's court -- for the time being.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two of I Have No Idea What I'm Doing in which Iwaizumi finally accepts that he prefers men over women. I have a bit more of a plan for the fic at this point (thank goodness) because I was reaching when I first wrote this down. I've been toying with the idea for quite some time, but I just now have had time to write. I do have a tumblr account where we can scream about this if you want. Username: abbybabbles. So here it is! Will Iwa get there in time to stop them? I don't know...

Iwaizumi touched his stomach absentmindedly. It hurt and itched. The stitches pulled and the poultice smelled. The doctor had insisted it was a calming scent, but it was nauseating. Of course, maybe it wasn't the smell. Maybe it was the day. Even now he felt indignant. No ruler should have slaves, and they certainly shouldn't treat them like- like some _thing_ that can be manipulated to their will. But... the way that man had looked at him, that poisonous look, it didn't look like a slave, didn't look like someone that had fallen prey to someone in a position of power over them.

He slumped against the wall, tapping the metal bottom of his mug against the table. 

Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap. 

He watched his ale slosh, almost spilling out, lost in thoughts of soft looking cheeks, harsh lines of hips, the gentle rise of his ass-

"Hajime, right?"

Iwaizumi startled, fingers slipping from the rim of his mug, its contents pouring out along the table, dripping from the cracks. He rushed to find something to clean it up with -- a rag or something, or- shit.

Easy, gentle laughter and surprisingly strong hands pulled his attention to the company he'd been ignoring. Sugawara was smiling at him, his chin propped on his hand, Iwaizumi's cup dangling from a long, thin finger. King Daichi tried to hide his smile in his mug, but it couldn't drown out his quiet chuckle. Hajime flushed as a lanky boy with freckles passed a rag his way.

"If you think much harder, Hajime, steam might come out your ears," Sugawara murmured cheekily, peering at him from under his long eyelashes. Hajime felt the heat creep up his neck, and he studiously ignored Sugawara's all too knowing gaze. "You know," he said, his finger following the lip of his mug. It was almost... seductive, so sensual. Caramel eyes flashed up at him, burning this time with something different. "If you hurry, you might get there before their little meeting."

Iwaizumi sucked in a breath, feeling like he'd been hit. He knew Sugawara was special to King Daichi, but he spoke without thinking, his tone biting more than he had intended. "I don't care about-"

"Cut the shit," Sugawara said, and Iwaizumi leaned back, away from the sudden intensity. Well, now he knew why he was allowed to wander so freely despite being so lightly armed. He had assumed before that Sugawara was Dachi's, ah, partner? Or second-in-command? He wasn't quite sure. The way Sugawara touched his arm or looked at him, it wasn't like a regular soldier to his king, and the bow he carried was finely crafted and sturdy but looked expensive. His arrows were all adorned with black crows feathers, and he knew enough that he could imagine the fletching took an extra set of hands.

King Daichi leaned forward, smiling, studying him, and, as his eyes swept the room, he felt the full strength of the soldiers, the black feathers on their armor shining, inky black even in the dim candlelight. 

He wasn't sure what moved him, but it was a blur, the trip from the hall to the main sleeping chambers. He had to stop several times to ask for directions, and he knew with the look the last woman gave him that he would be the talk of the staff for quite some time. She pointed him on, and he could feel her watch him as he half jogged down the hallway. If he remembered correctly, he was just a few doors away. 

Iwaizumi stopped, falling against the wall at the tug on his skin. He'd probably ripped his stitches. He wasn't even really sure what he had planned to do once he limped his way from the safe comfort of the Karasuno soldiers. He understood that. He understood the sweat beading on his forehead out of pain, the tears pricking in the corner of his eyes. What was he going to do when he finally knocked, especially if King Ushijima was there. He didn't regret disrupting dinner, but he was well aware that he had brought some small dishonor to Ushijima's court -- and by extension, himself. Aside from that, he had pissed off a man who was literally able to leave miles and miles of farmland only lightly guarded _at twenty-three years of age_. 

Even if he managed to avoid Ushijima, it's not like he'd be able to do anything. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't been hurting for a good fuck, but he had traveled for weeks, months, without stopping except when necessary. Even if he had the opportunity to sate himself with a man like that, he might not be able to in his current state. 

Forcing himself up, Iwaizumi slid along the wall the last few feet before he came upon the bedroom. He knew it was the one from the look of the door. His vision blurred as he reached for the handle, his wound burning. He hesitated, mind blanking when he heard the sounds.

It was a soft whine. The kind of sound that just instinctively made your insides coil. He could hear the bedframe hitting the wall, then. It had been a gentle enough sound at first, but it was growing louder now, the tempo increasing. 

He didn't want to hear this.

He wasn't sure how he made it down the stairs, but he kept a window in sight at all times. He at least knew he was walking the outer wall of the castle. Eventually he came out in some slick corner by the stables. Easing down onto the remnants of a hay bale, Iwaizumi groaned. He lifted his shirt enough to see the bandages. There was only a little blood, thank goodness. He closed his eyes, head falling back against the wood.

Iwaizumi laughed at the tickle of warm huffing breaths against the top of his head. He reached up to pat the horse's nose, reveling in the small nicker. He loved horses, and he tried to think about the  way it felt to have his hair nipped instead of Ushijima's hands in low places. He endeavored to ignore the biting jealousy writhing in his chest. It was unfounded. If their relationship was like that, he really had interjected needlessly. 

"You okay?"

Iwaizumi jumped, gritting his teeth at the pull when the muscles in his stomach flexed, not looking toward the man walking through the stables. 

"I'm fine," he growled out, angry that his peace was disturbed, angry at himself for thinking about someone he just met, just angry in a helpless kind of way where you wanted to be stronger but you wanted to give in. 

"Hey, you're that knight, the one that almost died for Oikawa," he stated matter-of-factly. Iwaizumi turned to look at him, but the newcomer made no move to study him.

"My name is Hayato Yamagata, by the way," he said, hanging the bridle on the silver hook, balancing a worn saddle with his knee. He must have been pretty strong to handle a saddle the way he was or maybe just accustomed to the leather. 

"So," Iwaizumi gruffed, "Are you the stablehand?" He regretted asking as soon as the words left his mouth. It was clear he didn't work the stables, but when Yamagata laughed it wasn't ill tempered or joking. 

"You don't think before you speak, do you?," he said, flashing a quick smile towards Iwaizumi, eyes darting from where he was rubbing the tender cut back up to his eyes. Yamagata looked away, eyebrows raised in a way that almost looked... impressed? He moved easily enough, hauling the saddling through the stands, around the wheelbarrow and hay bales, and Iwaizumi looked as much as he dared, enjoying the way his shirt pulled over his back. 

"I may not look like much," he huffed, swinging the saddle up over an empty stand, "but I'm one of Ushijima's knights. I typically handle the less impressive aspects in a fight -- none of the charging -- but it's fast paced, and it stays interesting. Not quite as showy as the front line, but it's necessary and it's nice to have my niche."

The conversation sparked at the talk of battle, and they discussed anything and everything Yamagata would share. The hours passed quickly, and it had to be well past midnight when they finally edged closer, sharing the same scratchy seat. Iwaizumi was shocked at how easy it was to talk to him, the flirty back and forth. He was attractive, especially the way his short cropped hair drew attention to his neck. When Yamagata finally reached forward, hooking a finger under Iwaizumi's shirt to look at his stomach, that was all it took. Iwaizumi didn't care that he was probably just another romp for him. It felt good the way his hands twisted in his hair, fingers trailing down his back. 

Sex like this was his favorite, where there was no clearly defined rule. They flipped back and forth easily, although toward the end when the pain started back, Iwaizumi let him ride him, sharing two orgasms before they finally tucked into each other in a clean stall, covering up with a warm blanket. 

In the morning before Yamagata woke, Iwaizumi pressed careful kisses to his face, indulging in his warm skin and his chest. This wasn't the first time he'd laid with a man. His first time had been with another squire back in Seijou. They'd kept it a secret, and if he was being honest, he hadn't really been interested in continuing it. During his time training he heard about the older knights laying with each other. "Tensions running wild," they liked to say. Still, if anything continued too long, it raised a few eyebrows. He had slept with a farmer's daughter after taking care of some men that killed a farmhand and some horses, but it hadn't been as _good_. It was pleasurable, but it was difficult to draw himself to completion with a woman. He'd never really thought about it before. Never really thought about how a woman's body didn't get him excited like it seemed to get other men. 

It was another hour before Yamagata stirred, the sky just turning blue. They dressed in between cold kisses, rubbing their arms as they jogged in the castle. Yamagata led him through door after door until Iwaizumi was finally jerked into a room. They didn't speak while Iwaizumi allowed his shirt to be peeled off, his trousers next. Yamagata finally released to finish stripping, pointing him to the full bath behind a partition, before he strolled over to collect firewood from the far corner. 

The bath had been drawn recently, which wasn't that difficult to believe. Yamagata was most likely accustomed to waking around this time for a reason. If he had to wager, it was probably around six hours past midnight. Standing by the steaming water, he was chilling, his stomach aching dully each time his muscles contracted. He waited for Yamagata patiently, listening to the fire catch.

When he heard the quiet pad of feet, he leaned against the warm chest when it pressed against his back, letting his eyes close. He hadn't realized his shoulders were so tense until Yamagata's fingers worked over his skin, easing him into the almost too hot water. He might regret the brush of fingers or the way he let Yamagata gently bend him over the side of the tub before they washed, but for the moment,

he gave in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will actually be smut at some point. I know this chapter seems like it's dawdling, and wow, where did Iwa and Yama come from? Everything should start picking up soon. Another group will show up, too. Guess who! Also, I hope my writing style is ok. I've never written an actual multi-chapter work before.


End file.
